


Night Moves

by MsImpala67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester First Time, Dirty Talk, First Time Wincest, Implied Switching, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Wincest - Freeform, how did these feelings get in my porn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 08:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10459968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsImpala67/pseuds/MsImpala67
Summary: Dean and Sam go visit an old friend to recover after a rough hunt. She helps them admit what they really want, and helps them give each other what they really need.





	

Dean slides the cassette into the deck, grinning when the music starts. He’s got the itch under his skin and he needs to drive, needs to breathe fresh air and see some new trees.  


“You ready, Baby?” he whispers, and he swears she purrs back a yes.  


Sam comes out of the motel room, looking sleepy and relaxed, blinking into the early morning sunlight. “What are we doing up this early?”  


“Oh, come on, Sammy. Thought you loved the mornings. Shouldn’t you have done your morning exercises or something already?”  


The duffel bag hits the back seat with a thud, and then Sam’s folded in where he belongs, next to Dean in the passenger seat, head tossed back and eyes closed. “Yeah, but not the morning after we almost die.”  


Dean grimaces a little but keeps his voice cheerful. “That was three days ago, man. We’re ready to go, right?”  


“Right,” Sam mutters. “Doesn’t feel like three days,” he adds quietly.  


Dean doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t want to relive any of it again. It was just one more in a long line of calls that were much too close. Dean can’t think about it anymore, can’t let his brain linger on the image of Sam that still, a single trickle of blood coming out of his mouth, can’t let his muscles remember what it was like to be possessed and unable to control themselves.  


They should be used to this by now, but they aren’t.  


They’ve spent the last three days in a motel room, eating food they had delivered when they were hungry, sleeping until they formed dents in the mattresses, and watching old movies in between loads of laundry that would never really be clean.  


That’s the ‘we almost died’ ritual.  


Only it’s getting harder to get over these things, and Sam’s still tense and quiet.  


“You know,” Dean says in a sudden inspiration. “We’re only a couple of hours away from Oaksville.”  


Sam squints for a minute as he thinks, and Dean smiles when his face lights up with realization. “We are! Katherine?”  


“I think we’re due for a visit,” Dean nods.  


Sam smiles, leans his head back and closes his eyes, getting lost in the same memories running through Dean’s mind.  


Katherine.  


When they pull up to her house, she has the door open before they knock, waiting with a smile.  


“Look what the cat dragged in,” she calls. “Could hear that giant hunk of metal rumbling five miles away.”  


Dean laughs. “You fucking love this car and you know it.”  


She’s still as beautiful and ethereal as ever, dark skin shining out from underneath her white summer dress, long hair moving in the breeze blowing through the front porch.  


Sam grins and hugs her, hands lingering a little on the swell of her hips. When Dean gets his arms around her, he takes a deep breath just to smell that flowery scent that seems to come from her skin itself. “Hey, Kit-Kat,” he murmurs against her ear.  


As soon as he lets go, she leans back, hands on her hips, and stares at them, looking very much like she wants to ask if they’re getting enough to eat. She always did have a nurturing streak in her. That’s probably why Dean fell in love with her in the first place.  


“Well,” she finally says, “come on in.”  


A few minutes later, they’re seated at her kitchen table, wind chimes tinkling from the open window.  


“What’s it been?” she asks. “Two years?”  


“About that, yeah,” Sam agrees.  


She grabs three beers out of the refrigerator, even though it’s only noon, and sits down with them. “Y’all doing okay?”  


Dean can’t answer. He’s too busy seeing her twenty years ago, a pretty teenager sitting in the front of the classroom, arguing with everything the teacher said. She was the only reason Dean bothered going to class at all during the few months they lived in Oaksville. She had been perfect.  


And she had stayed perfect through their first date, and their second and third. She had stayed perfect through the first time they’d had sex. She’d stayed perfect through all the afternoons of eating pizza and helping Sam with his homework. She’d stayed perfect through her teary goodbye when John came back and dragged them to the next town.  


She’d stayed perfect through all the times Dean had visited her through the years after that, through the random nights here and there, through the weekends on the lake, through accepting every shitty explanation he’d given her about his life.  


And she’d even stayed perfect when she fell for Sam, too.  


But that isn’t something Dean thinks too much about.  


Dean watches her as she and Sam catch up, talk about old times and what’s changed since the last time they spoke. She’s effortlessly charming, serene and calm in a way that Dean will never be, in a way that makes him want to bask in her shadow forever just to be near that kind of certainty.  


Nothing has changed.  


Her dark curls float around her shoulders as she turns her smile on him. “And what about you? Anything new to tell me?”  


“Same old,” Dean shrugs, the same answer he’s always given her. She’s long since stopped asking him to explain his life.  


“I guess I’d better make up the couch. You’re staying a couple of days, right?”  


“Sure,” Sam nods, “but we can’t both fit on the couch.”  


She smiles and winks, talking to both of them when she answers. “Then I guess one of you will just have to sleep with me.”  


********  
They both end up in her bed, like they knew they would.  


She’s lying between them, watching as they shuffle their clothes off, waiting to see how exactly they’re gonna fuck her tonight.  


Dean plans on taking his time.  


He gets a little lost when he finally feels her skin on his, soft and sleek and warm. She has no gun callouses on her hands, no poker face, no killer instinct.  
She’s just a girl. A girl he used to drive around with late at night, on back roads where he could turn the headlights off if the moon was bright enough .A girl who leaves notes in the glove compartment of the Impala every time he visits. A girl who doesn’t want a ring, a commitment, or even a phone call the next day. A girl who just wants him.  


And a girl who wants Sam.  


Now that they’re here, seconds away from bodies rubbing together hot and dirty, Dean can let himself think about the real reason he’s here.  


He’s here because Sam is here.  


This is the only time when Dean can look at Sam the way he wants to. Katherine is the only person who can open up to both of them, who wants them to open up to each other.  


Watching Sam touch her is not the same as touching Sam himself, but it’s as close as he’s going to get, and it’s enough for Dean.  


Dean never has these thoughts in the daylight, never gives in to these totally fucked up thoughts when he can help it. Only he can’t help it when they’re with Katherine. His sweet Kit-Kat gives him a reason to get naked with Sam, to accidentally brush up against his skin, to listen as he comes.  


That’s not why he fell in love with Katherine in the beginning, but that’s probably a good part of why he keeps coming back.  


********  
The three of them wake up in a sweaty pile the next morning, bodies twined around each other to the point that Dean’s back aches and his muscles are sore. He gets up and stretches, twisting and turning until everything pops and pulls itself back into place. Sam and Katherine do the same, and then they get dressed. That’s the part that Dean hates the most, because now he has to pretend that it was only Katherine he was looking at last night, that he and Sam are normal brothers who just happen to fuck the same woman sometimes.  


But this time feels different. Katherine’s looking at him like she’s seeing something more, something Dean doesn’t want her to.  


She corners him when Sam gets in the shower after breakfast.  


“Last night was fun,” she says, running her fingers through his hair as he pours another glass of orange juice for both of them.  


“Always is with you,” he answers, grinning at her and hoping that’s the end of the conversation.  


“I always have fun with you, too. Both of you.” She runs a hand from his shoulder down to his forearm, where she gently squeezes. “The two of you are so good to me. So open to everything when it’s the three of us together. So open with each other.”  


Dean freezes, a little nervous about where this is going to go.  


“It’s really special. Beautiful even. Don’t you think?”  


Dean shrugs and drinks his juice. Katherine smiles that knowing smile that makes Dean crazy, and drops the subject.  


“Let’s go for a drive when Sam gets out of the shower.”  


The tension drains from Dean’s muscles as he laughs. “Told you that you love that car.”  


Sam comes down the stairs a few minutes later, hair still damp but fully dressed, and Dean purposefully stares at Katherine, which isn’t too hard, given her low-cut tank top and jeans that hug her body just right.  


“What are we doing today?” Sam’s question makes him sound like a little kid, and Katherine grins at him.  


“Dean and I are taking you to the meadow.”  


“Oh, wow,” Dean breathes, “I’d totally forgotten about that place.”  


Sam raises an eyebrow. “The meadow?”  


“Just come on,” Dean commands, grabbing his keys.  


The weather is perfect. It’s warm but cloudy, the gray of it making the green of the trees and grass stand out in contrast, deep and rich colors that make Dean smile a little. He rolls down the window of the Impala and breathes deep.  


“Storm’s comin’.”  


“I smell it, too,” Katherine murmurs from the backseat, and Dean can feel the contentment settle over all three of them.  


Maybe they should visit Katherine more often. Maybe _she_ should be their new ‘we almost died ritual’.  


It’s raining by the time they get to the meadow. Dean just drives through the grass into the clearing and gets out anyway, letting the soft drizzle play over his face.  


“What is this place?” Sam asks.  


“This,” Dean grins, “is where Kit-Kat and I used to hang out when we first met. We’d ditch class and come out here instead.” The tone of his voice makes no secret of the reason _why_ they’d come out here.  


Katherine is suddenly pressed into his back, arms wrapping around him from behind as she playfully bites at his shoulder. “We couldn’t get enough of each other back then.”  


Sam snorts a laugh, then looks around at the flowers and trees and soft grass. “It’s beautiful.”  


The rain starts pouring then, that sudden, drowning rain that makes it seem like the sky is literally dumping an ocean out onto the ground below. They all laugh and take off for the Impala, throwing themselves in as quickly as possible.  


“Well, I guess we’ll have to wait a while to enjoy our spot,” Dean says, shaking the water from his hair.  


Katherine’s voice is soft when she speaks from the backseat. “We can enjoy the car while we wait.”  


Dean turns and grins, pushing himself up a little to slide over the seat into the back, but Katherine shakes her head no. “Sam? Would you like to hear about it?”  


Sam furrows his brow as he glances first at Dean, then back at Katherine. “Hear about what?”  


“About how Dean and I couldn’t get enough of each other.”  


Everything shifts. The rain gets louder, but Dean can still hear his own heartbeat over it. Sam has gone so still that Dean can’t figure out if he’s two seconds away from panicking or from jumping in the back seat and fucking Kat senseless. 

Katherine is just serenely smiling at him, brown eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror like she had been planning this all along.  


“Yes.”  


It’s just one word, but it’s the right one. Dean’s gaze jumps to Sam’s, and their eyes lock for maybe the first time ever in this kind of situation. There’s no looking down quickly, no coughing or stammering, no brushing it off and changing the subject back to her. Sam’s just staring at him, open and honest and curious.  


And something else, too. Turned on? But not just because of Katherine. Turned on because he’s looking at Dean.  


Oh, God. Oh, God.  


“I thought you might,” Katherine says.  


She leans forward, and Dean and Sam both instantly turn toward her, toward each other, until they can all smell the rain in each other’s hair.  


And Katherine starts talking.  


“Dean asked me out after our first class together. Followed me to my locker and leaned down over me, smelling like leather and danger in all the right ways, you know? And our first few dates were like a teenage fantasy. He was every bad decision my mom had made and tried to warn me against, and I loved it. Loved the way he grinned, loved the way his fingers looked when they moved, how he would lower his voice to that growl just to sound sexier.”  


Sam looks Dean right in the eyes and fucking nods. Like he knows exactly what she’s talking about. Dean feels his face heat up as he turns to look out at the meadow. He isn’t sure he can handle this.  


“And then I brought him out here. This was where I used to play when I was little. It was secluded and pretty enough that I thought it would be the perfect spot for our first time.”  


Dean watches as she leans closer to Sam, making sure he’s hanging on her every word, and he is. They both are.  


“So we come out here, and Dean is pretending he isn’t nervous, and somehow, we start play wrestling. He tickles me until I’m screaming-laughing, gets me down on the ground so that I can feel all his weight on top of me...God, that felt good. I can still remember the first time I felt that. A solid wall of muscle holding me down.”  


Sam squirms a little, and Dean doesn’t know what to make of that.  


“And then he kisses me. All slow and soft and deep.” She lets her hand drop to Sam’s shoulder and looks over at Dean, two sets of eyes now on him, making him blush deeper. “Did you know that he kisses the exact same way that you do?”  


A little breath punches its way out of Sam’s mouth then, and Dean feels it wash over him, sink into his skin and go straight to his cock.  


Fuck. Dean’s hard. It usually isn’t a problem with the three of them, but this time feels different. This time is about Sam. And Dean knows that he needs to restrain himself. Any second now, Sam’s going to tell her to stop, or he’s going to kiss her himself and put an end to this. Dean doesn’t need to get his hopes up.  


“I didn’t know that,” Sam breathes.  


“Well, he does. So I won’t bore you with that part. We can skip straight to the good stuff.”  


Sam still keeps his eyes on Dean, waits until Dean manages to look back at him, then licks his lips. “What’s the good stuff?”  


It’s right there in Sam’s face. This is really happening. But Dean still doesn’t trust it, so he shifts in his seat, hoping his erection isn’t noticeable.  


“The good stuff is how Dean ate me out.” There’s a long, dramatic pause as she lets that sink in. “We were still in high school, and I’d only had sex once before. And trust me, that guy had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t even try to go down on me. So I had no idea what I was in for with Dean.”  


Again, she pauses, like she’s waiting for Sam to take the next step.  


“What were you in for?”  


Fuck it. Dean can’t listen to this, can’t watch Sam’s face and not react to it. His hand moves to his lap and he rubs at himself through his jeans.  


Katherine only smiles a little and goes back to her story. “Your brother,” she begins, and she says the words pointedly, like they aren’t dirty, “is a master with his tongue. He teases a lot at first. Kissing over the lips of my pussy, sucking at them, making me spread my legs wide and beg for him to just do it already. And then he goes slow, licking over me like he’s on a treasure hunt, looking for just the right spot. When he finds it? He just fucking stays there until I’m sweating and screaming. I think he likes it most when I’m grabbing at his hair.”  


Dean has his hand inside his pants now, and he can’t remember when that happened, but it feels too good to have skin on skin, so he can’t stop. He just leans against the seat of his Baby and lets this turn into whatever it’s going to turn into.  


Katherine pushes herself over the seat until she can lick and bite at Sam’s ear. Sam finally moves his own hand, undoes his jeans and groans when he finally gets his own fingers wrapped around himself.  


Shit, Dean shouldn’t be staring like this. This breaks the rules they’ve spent so much time rigidly sticking to, even though they’ve never talked about them. But then, Sam wouldn’t be doing it if he wasn’t ready to cross this line.  


Katherine moves her lips against Sam’s ear when she talks again. “Have you ever wondered what he feels like?”  


“What?” Sam asks, voice cracking a little as he tries to concentrate through jerking himself off. Dean’s having trouble focusing too, his own hard cock swelling impossibly harder in his hand until he gives up and shoves his pants down to his thighs so he can get a decent grip.  


Sam moans at that, and Dean almost comes.  


Katherine smiles and says it again, body still bent over the backseat to get as close to Sam as she can. “Have you ever wondered what his tongue feels like? You’ve seen him fuck me a million times. Ever wondered what his cock feels like?”  


“I, uh...fuck. Yes.”  


“There you go,” she purrs. “I bet all you have to do is ask him.”  


“Ask him?” Sam pulls his hand away, leaving his cock peeking out over the hem of his boxers, dripping precome.  


“Ask him to show you what his tongue feels like. Honestly? I’d like to watch you find out.”  


JesusChristohGodyespleaseaskplease.  


“De-Dean?”  


Dean can’t say anything, just nods encouragingly as he keeps stroking himself.  


“Show me? Please?”  


In those dark moments Dean isn’t supposed to ever admit to, Dean’s heard Sam beg a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. He’s imagined what it would sound like to hear Sam wrecked and needy because of him. But never, never in all his wildest and dirtiest dreams, did he ever imagine it sounding that fucking good. That perfect.  


Sam’s eyes are wide and nervous, but unafraid. He wants this. He wants Dean to want this.  


Dean almost cries as he bends down, lets it sink it that he’s about to do this, that he’s about to suck Sam’s cock. It’s too much.  


But it’s not enough. One tiny flutter of his tongue to taste that precome, and Dean’s lost. Nothing else is ever going to be this good.  


He wants to impress Sam, wants to make him feel good, so he pulls out every trick he knows. He curls his tongue, presses into the underside of Sam’s cock where he knows he’s probably sensitive. He lets his lips slide up and down the length of Sam’s cock, taking him in until he hits the back of his throat, then relaxing his mouth and taking him even deeper. He sucks gently at first, then hard and fast, determined to make this the best blow job Sam’s ever had.  


And the sounds Sam makes! He moans and groans and grunts and growls and whines and whimpers and Dean has to squeeze his own cock to stop himself from coming.  


Those sounds are because of him. _He’s_ doing that to Sam.  


Somewhere in the background, he hears Katherine moan too, probably touching herself as she watches this. Dean will enjoy that later, but right now tasting Sam is all he can think about. He needs to make Sam come.  


It doesn’t take long.  


When Sam goes rigid and pushes a little deeper, pulsing into Dean’s mouth, hot and thick and deliciously bitter, Dean lets go of his own cock and comes too. He doesn’t care if he makes a mess. His car has dealt with much worse.  


When it’s all over and done with, he leans up and wipes his mouth, taking a deep breath before he braves looking at Sam.  


Sam’s looking right back at him, his face full of satisfaction and contentment. There’s no freaking out, no panic, no fear or disgust, and Dean almost laughs with relief.  


Without a word, they both zip back up, and Dean grabs some napkins out of the glove compartment to wipe up the mess he made on the seat. He’ll clean it properly later.  


Katherine breaks the silence. “Well. I’ve been wondering why you two have never done that before.”  


Dean turns to gape at her. “Because we’re...it’s...I can’t…”  


“Oh, shut up,” she grins. “Don’t ruin this by thinking. Especially because I haven’t even gotten to the part of the story where you fuck me for the first time. I bet Sam wants to hear all about that, too.”  


Dean starts the car, eager to get back to her house, where there’s a bed for them to stretch out in. Or just a wall to push Sam against.  


Katherine talks the whole way home, tells Sam about how hard and thick Dean felt inside of her, describes in detail how deep he went, how he moved his hips against hers, how he flipped her over and fucked her from behind, too. By the time they get back to her house, Sam’s heard all about how Dean’s sweat dripped onto her skin, how hot he sounded as he fucked her, how flushed his skin was when she took charge and started riding him.  


And both of them are hard as hell again.  


The three of them race each other upstairs to her bed.  


********  
When the sun rises the next day, it breaks the spell. Sam is smiling as he packs his things, but he’s quiet. Dean’s feeling a little awkward and unsettled, and he knows they won’t talk about this. It won’t become a regular thing.  


But Dean doesn’t care. He has last night permanently burned into his memory, and he can still feel the soreness of where Sam’s been when he walks. If it never happens again, that memory will be enough.  


After Sam has said his goodbyes and settled into the passenger seat, Dean kisses Katherine a little longer than usual. “Thanks, Kit-Kat. We needed you.”  


“No,” she grins. “You needed each other. But you’re welcome.”  


The same old cassette tape starts playing as they drive away, and Dean is caught between his old memories of Katherine, young and free and teaching each other what it is to love, and his new memories of Sam, the bittersweet result of holding back for far too long.  


For a moment, it’s a little scary, like Sam’s going to leave at the next rest stop when he fully processes what happened.  


But then Dean hears him humming along.  


Things might get weird. Things might always be weird.  


But Sam’s not leaving.  


********  
They’re parked out under the stars, like they do every now and then when they have the time and the weather is right.  


It’s been a while, and they still haven’t talked about it. They haven’t touched either.  


But Dean doesn’t mind.  


They’ve never been closer. Nothing’s changed, but Dean can feel it. He can feel the need pouring out of Sam when they’re next to each other, can feel the love coming off of him in waves. Call it codependent and fucked up, because it absolutely is.  


Tonight, sitting on the hood of his Baby, Sam stretched out next to him, he couldn’t care less.

**_Ain’t it funny how the night moves, when you just don’t seem to have as much to lose..._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated! XOXO


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